


Weeping of a Wolf

by Beevynn



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, actually i did reread this, babys first smut, no beta we die like men, or we die like people too lazy to reread their own work, so thats a lie, this was supposed to be filthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23149195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beevynn/pseuds/Beevynn
Summary: It was hard to describe it but a majority of the time Jaskier smells like some omnipotent being plucked a flare from the sun, gave happiness a smell, and bundled it together, creating the bard known as Jaskier.OrOur two boys being soft.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 19
Kudos: 299





	Weeping of a Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first contribution to the Witcher fandom! I hope you enjoy.

No matter what Geralt calls him, Jaskier isn’t a lark. Not an innocent little songbird who does nothing but twitter through tree branches with a melody in its breast. He can’t be, not when the whites of his teeth are bared and the soft blue that makes up his eyes freeze over. Jaskier isn’t a songbird. He’s a wolf. One that lives the daylight hours in a sheep's skin, bleating a song to a crowd who are none the wiser of the predator in their midst. He warps people's perception of him with a sweet voice that hides the sharpness of his words, elaborate clothing to hide the lithe body underneath, and a ditzy personality to hide a plotting mind. He could handle far more than he let on.  


Sometimes Geralt forgets that.

* * *

“-a friend of humanity!”

The tavern was filled with the rambunctious cheers of the locale as Jaskier climbed upon a table to sing his last notes to the throng. With a flamboyant flail of his arm, he dipped into a bow gathering the overfilled coin bag at his feet, “My good people of Eldham! You may rest easy knowing the wretched basilisk that has tormented your lives has been slain! Slain by the mighty Geralt of Rivia himself!” Jaskier sent a wink to the solemn figure haunting an empty corner, “Yet tonight is not just a night to celebrate the ending of a monster, but a night to celebrate the men who lost their lives to protect this village before a witcher arrived!” 

The crowd roared once more as Jaskier hopped off the table and swiped a tankard of ale from a passing barmaid, “Let the ale flow long and swift,” he proclaimed as he raised the drink, “as we celebrate those brave men!” 

With that final proclamation, Jaskier swung his lute across his back and turned to mingle with the people. For a town that had lost serval on their own, they were rather cheery. If he was being completely honest Jaskier didn’t know whether they were usually ones to celebrate life rather than mourn or if they were drinking their grief away. Either way, everyone was very loose with their coin and Jaskier has made more tonight than he has in a very long time. 

He felt a bit bad about taking it... Until he realized how much he needed it. 

Suddenly Jaskier was jolted forward as a meaty hand seized his shoulder, when he spun around he was met with a disheveled looking man, who’s dull brown hair tangled around broad shoulders. 

“Where ya headed, pretty thing? Wouldn’t you like to sing us another song?”

Jaskier smiled and looked into bloodshot gray eyes, “Ah, my good sir. I have already performed a rather extravagant closure. I am done for the night.”

The man belched, sending a foul smell directly Jaskier’s way, and tightened his grip bringing the smaller man closer, “A different kind of performance then. With all that dancing you were doing it's pretty clear all you want is to be shoved down and fucked.”  


There was a pause as the people around them grew silent. Everyone watching the altercation between the two closely, but none of them trying to put a stop to it. Not that Jaskier needed the help. With a firm push from the bard, the drunkard stumbled back and landed ass first on a nearby bench. He grumbled and tried to push himself up until a finger was gently tapped against his forehead. When he looked up he was met with a seductive look. Jaskier smiled softly and straddled the man, as he got himself comfortable he pushed locks hair away from a red face and unclasped a few of the buttons on his shirt.

The man grinned and placed clumsy hands on Jaskier’s supple waist, “Ah, you know exactly what you’re made for-” 

There was only a flash of silver as a warning as Jaskier whipped his dagger from its resting place and let it rest against chapped lips. There was a struggle until the man froze as Jaskier shoved the better part of the silver stem into his mouth.

Drink glazed eyes met piercing blue.

“Shove? Oh, Darling, I am partial to a bit of shoving,” Jaskier purred as he leaned to put his mouth near the trembling man's ear, “Would you like to know what happens when I shove my pretty little bird deeper down your gullet?”

When the man did nothing but whimper Jaskier hummed and placed a well-manicured hand on a scruffy cheek, “I’ll have you know I don’t take kindly to people grabbing me untowardly, but I am a nice man, I’ll forgive you as long as you apologize.” Jaskier then waited until a sound that resembled an apology escaped around the dagger, “There we go.” He then slowly pulled it out and wiped its spit slick shaft on the man’s tattered shirt. “Have a wonderful night.” With those parting words, Jaskier shifted his weight off of the man and returned his weapon to the hidden pocket in his doublet. 

When he spun around Jaskier was met with the sight of Geralt standing frozen just behind him. His body tensed and hands clenched, he looked as if he had been frozen mid lunge. The group of people that had stood near the slight squabble had strayed away. Whatever self-preservation instincts they had forced them to move away from the sight of an angered witcher. The air in that corner of the tavern had grown heavy with a feeling that they couldn’t deduce. It was understandable that they fled. 

There was a fluttering feeling deep within Jaskier’s stomach as he sauntered the few steps between himself and his witcher. He then linked his arm with Geralt’s and escorted him away from the scene, ignoring the whispers that erupted around them. 

“Now, now, Geralt. There was no reason for you to unseat yourself. I can handle a small scale ruffian on my own, you know this.” 

Jaskier chuckled when the response he was given was a harsh grunt. He licked his lips and watched as Geralt’s eyes, dark with expanded pupils, followed its path. It seemed that Geralt had forgotten just why he had gotten up, he had been sufficiently distracted. The relationship between the bard and witcher had been steeped in mutual attraction since the first time they encountered one another, and it had only grown into something more since then. While Jaskier seemed to permeate their everyday life with his Geralt’s only ever broke through his well-fortified walls during instances like this. Jaskier lived for them. The moments reminded Jaskier that his feelings were not one-sided. That even though Geralt refused to acknowledge them they existed. Jaskier just hoped they are as strong as his own and that Geralt would come clean about them soon. 

As Jaskier continued to lead Geralt away he passed a tip to the innkeeper, mumbling an apology about the quarrel. He then made his way up the creaky steps, Geralt still silent by his side. When they made it to the room Jaskier unwound his arm and shut the door with a satisfying bang. 

“Well, that was a rather eventful night, wasn’t it?” Not waiting for a response Jaskier took his lute from his shoulders and placed it lovingly on the chest of drawers already cluttered with his belongings. “I haven’t had to unsheathe in quite some time. It’s good to know I’ve still got it.” 

As he began organizing his possessions he shot a glance at the man who continued to stand still at the doorway. Geralt's nostrils flared with each carefully calculated breath and his golden eyes did not move from where they watched Jaskier flutter around. 

“Fuck.”

Jaskier slowed what he was doing and watched as Geralt slowly lost whatever battle he had been having with himself. Geralt's eyes slammed shut and his chest heaved with a breath he held before releasing it with a shaky whoosh. When he reopened them they were pleading. 

“I can't do this any longer.”

The witcher then moved forward, his steps slow and cautious as he approached Jaskier, who had completely paused as he watched Geralt. When he stood in front of the bard Geralt let himself fall roughly to his knees and pressed his face into the fine silks that covered Jaskier’s stomach. He took a moment to just breathe in the scent of the man. Underneath the false floral smell Jaskier spritzed himself with daily was the one that never failed to drive Geralt crazy. It was a smell that Geralt could easily follow, even if he was half-blind and delusional from a fight gone wrong. Sunshine and happiness. It was hard to describe it but a majority of the time Jaskier smells like some omnipotent being plucked a flare from the sun, gave happiness a smell, and bundled it together, creating the bard known as Jaskier. Every time Geralt smelled it his body felt as if it were being closely held and the darkness behind his eyes blazed with the brightest shade of yellow. 

Geralt was brought out of his reflection when he felt his chin being cupped and his face being urged to look upward. He was met with Jaskier smiling tenderly. 

“Is this it then, Geralt? Are we finally taking the leap?” 

Geralt huffed and nodded. 

Jaskier smiled, “Good.” 

With that said Jaskier crouched in front of the kneeling man, not breaking the eye contact between the two of them. When he had settled he brought his other hand up to fully cup Geralt's face, running his thumbs softly over the groove under Geralt's eyes. They continued resting like that in silence, no noise in the room other than the breathing of the two men. Once slow and soft, and the other rapid and shallow. 

Jaskier closed his eyes and placed his forehead against Geralt’s, “Finally.” 

Jaskier softly pressed his lips to Geralt’s, and it seemed that was all that needed to be done to set him off. As soon as Geralt felt the pressure of Jaskier’s lips on his own it was as if someone had cut the wire holding him taunt. His bones turned liquid and he slumped forward into the kiss. He was frantic in the way he clawed at Jaskier, almost begging for him not to stop. He grunted when he felt Jaskier lean back. 

“Come. Let’s move this to the bed.” 

Jaskier helped Geralt stand on shaking legs and moved them towards the closer of the two beds in the room. He had him sit on the edge of the bed and widen his legs so Jaskier could have space to stand. Then he kissed Geralt again. This time putting as much passion in it as he possibly could. 

Geralt groaned when he felt Jaskier breach his lips and caress the roof of his mouth with his tongue. He quivered as fingers firmly clasped his silver locks and positioned his head right where they wanted it. The dual sensation of pleasure and pain rushed through his body as his cock leaked in his trousers. When soft lips were removed from his own he chased after, trying to return them to their rightful place. They had been taken away from him once, he didn’t want that to happen again. 

Breathing heavily, Jaskier stroked the bridge of Geralt's nose, “Alas, I am a simple human, and sadly, that means I am forced to breathe more often than someone who has been made to be so much more than I.” 

Geralt shook his head, he wasn’t more than Jaskier. How could he, as tainted as he is, be more than the child of actual sunshine. It was bad enough that he was corrupting Jaskier with his destroying touch. He could practically feel his darkness eating away at Jaskier’s light, selfish in the way it tried to bury itself in the warmth. 

Jaskier’s soft expression transformed into something sterner as he watched Geralt get lost in his thoughts. He knew that face. Though it remained fixed in its regular stoicism Jaskier could tell every time Geralt started his self-deprecating thoughts. One’s eyes tell no lies. 

“Where have you gone, Geralt? I do expect you to stay here, in this moment, when I am with you.”

This broke Jaskier’s heart, the fact that Geralt felt so undeserving of love. Undeserving of any niceties. That this man, and he is a man, no matter what mutation he has been through, felt like a lesser being. Jaskier has seen him give what little food he had to a street urchin, though he himself had not eaten in days. Has watched as he took stone after stone from the ungrateful fools that threw them. All the while screaming monster, as if they weren’t the monsters themselves. Though Jaskier never fails to try to throw himself at the closest perpetrator he is always held back by a steel arm. 

_They don’t understand, Jaskier. Let them be. ___

__If the rest of this night goes as Jaskier plans he will forevermore happily disregard those words._ _

__Jaskier pressed a gentle kiss to Geralt’s cheek and asked if he could stand once more. When the answer was given by Geralt silently rising Jaskier smiled and said two words: good boy._ _

__A reaction happened immediately, a jarring shudder rushed through Geralt’s body as he took a sharp breath. Jaskier brushed his nose against the pulse point on Geralt’s neck and could feel the thrumming of his heart. It was beating the same pace as Jaskier’s own does when he luxuriates. For the witcher that was practically racing._ _

__While Jaskier yearned to throw the witcher down and show him just how much he cared he knew he had to take it slow. He wanted to take it slow. He wanted to run the softest of touches down every scar, followed by the gentlest of kisses. Take hours to massage each knot that burrowed its way into the witcher’s body, praising the man for all his good doings. Geralt is a savior that walks the same path as regular men. He deserves to be cared for. He deserves to be worshiped._ _

__Jaskier will do just that._ _

__“Geralt, may I undress you?”_ _

__Geralt’s lips pursed with a steadying breath and he nodded, “Please, Jask...I-I.”_ _

__Jaskier calmly shushed Geralt and took a calming breath of his own. Never has he heard Geralt stutter, not able to find the words. He slowly undid the buttons that held Geralt's shirt together, kissing every inch of skin that was exposed to him. He then let steady fingers pull the end of the shirt from where it was tucked into Geralt's trousers, bringing it over his head and allowing the wolf medallion he war to fall loose and rest itself on the fuzz of Geralt's chest hair. Throwing the shirt behind him Jaskier then began on the buttons that lined the front of Geralt's pants, and in one fell swoop ridding Geralt of both them and his smallclothes. He skipped his attention over the half hard cock that swung between muscle bound thighs and urged Geralt to lift each foot so he could gather the pants and toss them to join the crumpled shirt._ _

__Then Geralt was left to stand bare in all his naked splendor. He was stunning. Jaskier, of course, knew that, being the one to practically force Geralt into the nearest body of water to bathe. He usually always took a peak, he was only human, but there was something different about the fact that this time it was Jaskier’s own hands that stripped the witcher of his clothing. It was intimate in a way the two of them had never been._ _

__“Lie down, Geralt. On your back if you would.”_ _

__Geralt quickly followed the command as he had been trained to do. He let his head rest on one pillow and held his arms rigidly at his sides, lost in his head once more as the bard moved away. He wanted Jaskier, he wanted him so badly he felt as if he could crawl out of his own skin. Yet, he was frightened. As much as he hated to admit it he was terrified of what was to come. Not of Jaskier, never of Jaskier. That man could shatter Geralt with an ease no other being that walked this world could, but that wasn’t what scared Geralt. Jaskier could never, would never, bring harm to him._ _

__It was Geralt that could hurt Jaskier._ _

__It was Geralt who had hurt Jaskier. He would give anything to take those words he spoke atop that damned mountain away. Anything. While he had said his words of apology the consequences of his actions still haunted their relationship. Jaskier’s eyes dimmed anytime Yennefer was mentioned, and he withdrew into himself anytime Geralt turned towards him in anger. Even with Jaskier trying his best to hide it Geralt could always tell. It was the only time Jaskier’s smell became sharp with the pungent scent of decay and the thick feeling of sludge coated the back of Geralt's tongue._ _

__Geralt loved Jaskier so much. It was easy to admit it to himself. And it was because Geralt's love for Jaskier was so strong he kept a barrier between the two. Jaskier was delicate and he didn’t deserve the curse that was Geralt's love to be cast upon him._ _

__But Geralt was weak. Especially today._ _

__It was rare for Jaskier to be forced to defend himself. Most folk were too scared to touch the bard that traveled with the white wolf. It was also few and far between that someone was stupid enough to put their hands on Jaskier in the witcher’s presence. Still it happens, it happened tonight. Jaskier was glorious in the way he handled himself. Seeing Jaskier put someone in their place always caused a small bundle of hope to form in Geralt's heart. It reminded him just how strong Jaskier was and whispered to him that Jaskier could handle anything that Geralt threw at him. Usually Geralt could tell that feeling to piss off and shove it aside but something had happened to shake Geralt’s defenses._ _

__When Geralt rose that morning he was met with the sight of Jaskier’s sleep soft face. The bard had rolled off his bedroll and had somehow wormed his way against Geralt without waking him. All Geralt could do was revel in the feeling of Jaskier’s body as thought after thought of what they could be slammed into his consciousness. It caused Geralt physical pain to move away from Jaskier instead of taking him into his arms._ _

__Geralt had ran to the nearest town, hoping they had a job he could distract himself with. He was lucky they had a basilisk issue. The fight served its purpose for a while, but all his feelings came rushing back when he saw Jaskier entertaining the crowd. Chestnut hair tousled, and eyes gleaming as he sang. The sun had gifted him fresh freckles and they practically sparkled whenever Jaskier twirled through a beam of light that bled through the cracked wood of the ceiling. He was beautiful._ _

__Geralt had tried to drown his thoughts in ale, but then he was watching as someone forced themselves onto Jaskier. He quickly made his way over but had frozen when Jaskier proved he could take care of himself. He knew he had lost the battle when Jaskier led him to their shared room._ _

__Now this was happening._ _

__It seemed that Jaskier had stripped himself of most of his clothes and was left in only his underthings as he sat beside Geralt, watching the man. When Geralt looked at him he smiled and gestured with a small vial of oil that was in his hand._ _

__“You need to relax Geralt,” He said as he removed the cork, “How about a massage?”_ _

__Jaskier then poured a small amount of the oil in his hands and rubbed them together to warm it. He then took hold of Geralt's clenched sword hand and began massaging into it, kneading the stiffness away and working the oil into the tough skin. Before he moved his touch upwards he kissed the open palm._ _

__“You have used this hand to save countless lives. Including my own.” Jaskier nuzzled his cheek into it, “I am honored to be able to hold it like this.” He then let go of the hand to rub against Geralt's arm. “You’ve trained tirelessly to better your reflexes. It had been an honor to be able to watch.” He then straddled Geralt's lower stomach and pressed his ear to Geralt's chest, where his heart was. “This beats to keep a wonderful man alive.” Jaskier then looked at Geralt, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It is an honor to be able to listen to it.”_ _

__Geralt shook his head and quietly murmured, “It shouldn’t be. There is nothing about me that you should be grateful for.”_ _

__Jaskier caught Geralt's lips with his own for a slow kiss, “I am grateful for everything about you. I adore you.” A laugh bubble from his chest as he shook his head, “How can I not when you radiate even though you shroud yourself with shadows? You have such a beautiful light, Geralt. Disagree with me all you like, I know it to be true.”_ _

__Geralt quivered and his eyes began to burn, with each word Jaskier cut deep. Releasing something trapped within binds Geralt doesn’t even remember tying. Jaskier’s silver tongue waxed poetry about everything Geralt found undesirable about himself. His eyes, his hair, even his teeth. It became very apparent why Jaskier was known widely as one of the most renowned bards. He weaved such believable stories._ _

__Jaskier raised his head from where it was buried in Geralt's chest, an earnest look on his face. “I’m going to take care of you, Geralt. For as long as my heart beats. Starting today.”_ _

__Jaskier then kissed down Geralt's chest, licking over the raised scars that littered it as he went. He dipped his tongue into the divot of Geralt's navel before nipping at each hip bone. As he did that his breath ghosted over Geralt's softened cock, triggering it to twitch back to life. He took the hardened length into his hand and licked away the bead of precum that had gathered on the tip. Geralt's cock was as impressive as the man himself. Jaskier felt the corners of his mouth strain as he sucked the tip. With a few calming breaths he inhaled the entirety of Geralt, causing the man to moan and arch his back. Rough hands grasped at Jaskier’s hair, but the pressure was removed as soon as it had come as Geralt had jerked his hands back and pressed them over his mouth._ _

__Jaskier hummed as he relaxed his throat, allowing the last of Geralt's cock to ease into his mouth, the entire length resting heavily on his tongue. He closed his eyes and scented the heady smell of Geralt as his nose rested against the wiry hairs on his pelvic bone. Jaskier was in no rush, all he did was hold Geralt's cock in his mouth, swallowing the fluids that pooled together regularly. Eyes still closed, Jaskier slid his hands up Geralt's body until he bumped into the bony points of elbows. He grabbed them and tugged, urging Geralt to remove his hands from his face and instead weave them into Jaskier’s hair._ _

__The weight of Geralt's cock and the firm grasp on his hair caused Jaskier’s prick to swell within his pants. He had been half hard the moment Geralt fell to his knees in front of him, but the act of bringing the man pleasure brought about his full arousal swiftly. Jaskier moaned and opened his eyes, meeting Geralt’s. He did not let his gaze falter as he tightened the ring of his lips and slowly dragged them up, using a hand to stroke every exposed inch as it left his mouth. He continued this pattern, of sucking and stroking, until the hands in his hair twitched and the thighs framing his head tensed. Those actions signified the time for Jaskier to stop. He allowed the cock to fall free from his mouth, resulting in a whine from the witcher._ _

__“I’m not going to stop,” Jaskier said as he stroked the cock at a leisurely pace. Enough to keep arousal, but not enough to bring about completion. “I’m going to give you more._ _

__Geralt bit his lip and tried his best to keep his eyes locked with Jaskier’s. The minstrel's hand felt heavy on him, the mixed feeling of soft palms and rough fingertip caused him to release sounds he would usually be embarrassed of. He almost shouted when the additional pleasure of Jaskier sucking one of his heavy balls into his mouth was added._ _

__There was a slight pressure at his entrance._ _

__“Has anyone ever touched you here, dear heart?”_ _

__Geralt shook his head at the question. While he has had many lovers in his lifetime none of them took interest in him that way. They had been sufficiently distracted. Geralt himself never thought of it during sex. The only time it had ever been brought up was with Yennefer, but the look in her eyes didn’t send a heat of arousal up his spine like the one in Jaskier’s did. If he was being honest it had caused his arousal to wane. He wasn’t afraid to admit Yennefer intimidated him._ _

__“May I touch you here?”_ _

__This time Geralt nodded, almost frenetically. He readied himself to allow Jaskier to breach him but found himself shocked when instead of blunt fingers touching him it was a warm tongue circling his puckered hole. He threw his head back with a hiss as he felt the tongue curl into him and widened his legs to allow Jaskier better access. When the broad edge was pressed against him in a sloppy, opened-mouthed kiss, his hips jolted involuntarily. He felt rather than saw Jaskier fumble for the oil that had been disregarded by his side. When a slick finger pressed against his hole he melted, allowing it to slowly sink into him._ _

__“Jaskier!” Geralt panted, as he canted his hips, begging, hoping for more._ _

__A second digit joined the first and the tongue returned, sliding between the fingers with a loud slurp. There was a moment of stillness given to Geralt before he felt the fingers curl. Then suddenly his whole being felt as if he had been struck by lightning. Each tremor that quaked him came from a place deep within his body that Geralt did not know existed. He had never felt pleasure like this, it was dizzying. He could hardly breathe as he was bombarded with the overwhelming force of Jaskier’s attention._ _

__Jaskier firmly clasped the base of Geralt cock as he continued to massage Geralt's prostate. He watched fondly as Geralt writhed in pleasure, furrowed brow glistening with a sheen of sweat, bottom lip chewed raw with a sharper than normal canine. The man was an absolute vision when he allowed himself to bask in pleasure instead of using it as a means to an end. Jaskier could compose sonnet after sonnet about him, this person who seemed to encapsulate the beauty of both the sun and the moon. Jaskier loved him so much his soul ached._ _

__Love._ _

__Jaskier huffed at himself. After all this time he still hasn't said those seemingly simple words out loud. He has told Geralt countless times that he cared for him or that he would follow him until the end of time, but his deeper feelings always remained hidden, tucked behind the sweet words of songs. Geralt probably has no clue, as dense as the man is, of just how strongly Jaskier feels for him._ _

__“I love you.”_ _

__Jaskier suddenly felt lighter as he said those words, and couldn’t stop the beaming smile that stretched across his face._ _

__“I love you so much.”_ _

__Geralt's eyes sprang open and he searched Jaskier’s face, scanning for any hint of deception or regret. When he found none he felt something in his chest collapse and reached desperately for Jaskier. He ignored the sudden empty feeling as Jaskier’s fingers left him and gathered the smaller man to him, wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s waist. He felt a sob try to claw its way out of his throat as hot tears leaked from his eyes. When he buried his face in the crook of Jaskier’s neck he was hit with the pure scent of Jaskier’s love, he could no longer hold himself back and a deep, broken howl tore from him. He felt arms wrap around him and a soft voice let him know it would be alright, that he could let everything go._ _

__And so Geralt let himself be shattered._ _

**Author's Note:**

> I have a head cannon that Geralt has Synesthesia. In layman's terms it's a condition where when once sense is activated another, unrelated, sense is activated at the same time. It's super interesting! 
> 
> If you enjoyed this hit me up on [Tumblr](https://beevynn.tumblr.com/).


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